To Claim That Once Is Immeasurable
by Aero-Cluster
Summary: Infinite.


To Claim That Once Is Immeasurable

**—when it is time to think about the "what is" instead of the "what if's". AU**

* * *

**01**

* * *

He feels in his heart that he is free. He knows that he is free. He gathers up all of his valuables—the indispensable trophies, the hard-earned championship medals from the premier cup, and all the other evidences from time when recognition was the most important thing that mattered to him. He stuffs them in his car's trunk and he is happy.

The guy's name is Jellal Fernandes. He takes from what is given and settles for the risks. He is audacious, never cautious, and for that he is not afraid of losing everything. He stakes, and the stakes are high. To him it is how you play the cards you are dealt with.

He starts the engine of his car, driving leisurely into sunrise and regrets the fact that he failed to look back.

* * *

She feels in her heart that she is healed. She convinces herself she is healed. She takes nothing with her except the necessary things—clothes, books, toiletries and shoes. It makes her happy, leaving everything behind and clings to the faint promise of a fresh start.

The girl's name is Erza Scarlet. She gives what is already taken. She is cautious, never bold, and that is because she has lost everything. She does not bet and promises to never, ever, hold the cards again.

She starts the engine and gives a knowing look at her broken rear view mirror. She drives anxiously into sunset and regrets the fact that she looked back.

* * *

**02**

* * *

Jellal Fernandes is ecstatic. He already likes his new room.

It is small and clean, just like he always prefers.

To the tattooed ultramarine, tight spaces always give him security and relief. It saves him the trouble of cleaning up his mess and he smiles at the idea of it.

He has the private space all to himself.

Jellal finishes unloading the last of his treasured possessions and his mind suddenly wanders off to the numerous possibilities college life has for him.

* * *

Erza Scarlet is not happy. She already loathes her new room.

It is small and cramped.

To the redhead, tight spaces make her vulnerable and uncomfortable, bringing with them claustrophobia. She frowns at this, despising the fact that she is alone and has the private space all to herself. She manages to finish unpacking her belongings and her mind wanders off to the nightmares that will definitely haunt her tonight.

* * *

**03**

* * *

He wants to ask if parties that involved loud music, smoking and drinking are allowed, but he loses his way somewhere along the corridors of the dormitory and that is when he bumps to her.

He hears a soft sound and he immediately offers a set of apologies, bringing his head down to face her.

He sees a patch of red, and realizes that it is the color of her hair. The ultramarine clears his throat before uttering another string of solemn regret.

He evaluates her. It is a habit that he has yet to break when meeting someone new. Jellal often looks at people from head to toe, assessing them without much of a reason. And from this he concludes that she is a ginger, with brown eyes and a soft angular face. He also observes that she has stiff shoulders and long legs.

The ultramarine immediately asks her something.

"Do you know where the concierge office is?"

* * *

She wants to disappear. She doesn't like the idea of being around boys because it scares her so much. But when Erza decided to leave everything behind, she knows she will have to face men. The redhead notices that he has a peculiar tattoo on his right cheek extending all the way up to the right side of his forehead under the thick fringes of his...was that blue hair?

She hears a deep and virile voice from which she keeps herself composed.

The redhead eventually tells herself that she must answer quickly if she ever wants this to end.

"It's on the tenth floor."

* * *

**04**

* * *

Their second meeting is fate, he guesses. Jellal has always been a fan of destiny and kismet, so he thinks—feels—that she will be significant one day. His gut tells him she will be. He doesn't know in what field or aspect, but he just knows.

He chooses a spot next to her in class and asks if it is empty. She curtly nods and takes a seat, turning his head to face her as he asks the redhead's name.

Erza Scarlet.

He thinks her name is beautiful. And he wonders why before introducing himself.

* * *

She believes that people make their own paths, their own decisions and tread on life as they please. The redhead doesn't believe in fate, or destiny. To her, it is a matter of choices. Of harsh and difficult choices.

Erza glances at the front momentarily and sees him approaching. He is walking towards her. She does not see this as fate or destiny. She sees this as a choice. His choice. And he chooses to close in on her. She does not mind at first, hoping he'll pass her by, but when he stops and gestures a polite hand to catch her attention, she spares her time.

She hears him ask if he can sit next to her. She thinks first of course, he is a boy after all. But then she chooses to say yes and the next thing she knows is that he is perplexing and wonders why she isn't afraid of him.

Jellal Fernandes.

That is his name. She wonders why it matters.

* * *

**05**

* * *

There is a knock on his door.

He drops the book he is reading.

_The Basics of Baking._

It's his dream to be a baker; that is why he is doing his best to accomplish every task and test thrown at him because the culinary classes demand it. He stands up to open the door and he sees a familiar face.

"Yo," the blond greets and Jellal wonders why he is here. The man's name is Laxus Dreyar, a quite loud and burly guy from the same class as him. "Wanna party?"

He doesn't think twice, because if there is anything good that will come out of this, it is that Laxus is eventually going to be his friend or the wheels of fate have something planned out for him.

* * *

She is contemplating.

She isn't quite a person someone would befriend because she rarely talks and prefers to be invisible, yet a white-haired chick asked her to come to the reception area and have some fun. She saw her from class earlier, and she knows her name.

Mirajane Strauss.

Such a lovely name, and a lovely face. She wonders why she turned down her offer.

* * *

**06**

* * *

He loves this kind of atmosphere, and he loves that he has already made quite a few number of acquaintances—or more like friends.

There is Laxus, who he already finds like a brother to him and Simon who approaches them and offers a drink. He feels that the bond is going to grow, since they are already comfortable with each other and all are basically from the same course and class.

He asks Simon to pour more beer into his glass when he catches the faintest hint of red among the crowd.

* * *

She doesn't know how she ended up in uncharted territory. All she knows is that she calls Mirajane back after she gives the redhead her number just in case she changes her mind—and she did—and now she's here, having no clue as to how she's going to blend in to the crowd.

Erza tries to adjust to the noisy and jam-packed room, thanking the white-haired girl who drags her away from the sardine-like dance floor and settles for somewhere with more privacy.

Then the redhead notices the awfully striking red tattoo and the all-too-good-to-be-true cerulean locks.

* * *

**07**

* * *

He lies on the soft mattress of his bed, clad in only a dark pair of boxer shorts.

His face is flushed from drinking too much and he smiles, staring at the ceiling as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

The soft tune of the wind humming from his window brings his eyelids down. He falls asleep; he is amused at the thought that Erza's dream is to be a baker too.

* * *

She enjoys the hot streams of water flowing down her tired body. Mirajane is persuasive and insistent Erza thinks, and rinses her body to rid herself of soap. She turns the shower handle counter-clockwise to stop the running water and dries herself.

The redhead sits on her bed, wrapping her scarlet tresses with another towel and praises herself for the fact that she has made friends—and the fact that most of them are boys. There is Mira, then Simon and Laxus, and...

And Jellal who spent most of the night talking to her.

* * *

**08**

* * *

He feels that something is amiss and he knows something is, because she is not here. He wonders where she is and why she skipped class. Jellal that time made two copies of his notes for today's lessons.

* * *

She came down with a rather serious case of sore throat. It must be because she drank way beyond her capacity which is two glasses. She had four, and Mirajane is to blame. Erza is thankful that she doesn't have the so-called and famous hangover but regrets that she missed her second day in class.

* * *

**09**

* * *

"Here," he hands it out to her while she is busy copying from the notes of Mirajane.

"What is this?" he hears her ask and the ultramarine chuckles in delight. He saw her frown, as if convincing herself that he's not making fun of her. He clears his throat.

"Notes, from when you were absent."

* * *

She can't help but release a small and heartfelt "oh".

"Why did you even bother?" she inquires and the redhead sees him shrug, noting that the action is the safest and best answer possible.

"What're friends for?" she hears him finally say.

* * *

**10**

* * *

They are friends, he thinks. Mirajane, Laxus, Simon and Erza. They are already close friends and it's only been a month.

Jellal is bored and checks if his friends are sharing the same dilemma as him.

Mirajane is out on a family trip this weekend.

Laxus is busy helping out his grandfather run the bakeshop downtown.

Simon is currently on a part-time job.

He grumbles, starts walking back to his unit when he suddenly stops.

Erza. He still hasn't asked Erza.

* * *

She is busy with Algebra and apparently, the numbers are making her head spin like a carousel at full speed with the long equations. She massages her temple and places her reading glasses down.

She needs a break.

And that is when someone knocks on her door.

* * *

**11**

* * *

"Hey, you want to go somewhere?" he offers and relaxes on the door frame as he sees her standing in front of him, hands still fixated on the doorknob.

He helps himself in even though she didn't invite him.

"I'm busy with Algebra." Jellal picks her notebook up and smirks.

"These are wrong." he snickers and Erza rushes to his side, snatching the notebook away from his grasp but only failed because he is faster and taller.

"Give it back Jellal!" he wants to tease her, and her expressions only fuelled him to go on. There is a lot of struggle and grabbing done, but as he dodges her last attempt to retrieve the notebook, he suddenly trips, making him hold onto her waist before falling together with her.

It surprises him that she lands on him in a way he didn't expect.

It's awkward because his hands are all over her tiny waist, and his legs are trapped between her own long pair. And if he lifts his head a little, he could already see the swell of her chest peeking from the—

He hears her yell and she jumps away from him like she's burned. The ultramarine helps himself to his feet and utters his deepest and sincerest apologies. He sees that she does not react in any way—no movements, no words spoken. It horrifies him to see her trembling and his reflex is to grab onto both her arms and squeeze them a little to assure her she is safe.

It elicits the opposite effect as the redhead thrashed around, making every move necessary to get away from his grip and unyielding hold.

He follows this concerned gesture with a remark that he never thought would make it worse.

"Calm down Erza, I'm not going to hurt you."

* * *

She shrieks and pushes him away as the horrible words come back to haunt her.

_It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you. Now be a good girl and do what I tell you._

She feels her breath hitching with every energy-draining pull, pupils dilating and knees caving in. Erza continues to wildly lash out at the ultramarine who is still trying his best to control her adrenaline-fuelled kicks and punches. It is like a wave; Erza describes the adrenaline like a huge swell of water—one minute you're stronger than anyone else, the next minute you can no longer stand.

She falls to the floor before succumbing to darkness.

* * *

**12**

* * *

Erza was raped.

He knows that now.

He grits his teeth.

He should've known that before! Her stiff posture, her anxious eyes, her trembling form, her breaking voice, her distant—_Damn it!_

He knows now that she is damaged but he doesn't know if she is damaged beyond repair. He doesn't know who sexually assaulted her or when, or how or how many. He doesn't know anything at all. He thinks he knows her but he doesn't.

And now he has hurt her.

* * *

She wakes up, finding the softness of the mattress soothing her aching form. The redhead checks her arms and finds the red marks scattered across the length of her limbs. Panic slowly rises once more and it's his voice that brings her back to sanity.

"I'm sorry." his voice is deep and...is he hurt?

_How ironic._

Erza clutches the fabric of her shirt and draws the bed sheets over her form, the cloth of a material providing the necessary armor and cover to protect her from any incoming onslaught.

"I...I haven't moved on." she croaks, feeling the need to tell him a piece of her dark past. "Even if...e-even if he's behind bars!" she breaks unabashedly and she sees how he restrains himself from walking in and comforting her. She thanks him silently.

_He understands._

Comfort isn't what she needs; pity isn't either. What she needs is to let it all out until she can let nothing out anymore.

* * *

**13**

* * *

He distances himself from her. He caused her pain in a manner he didn't intend to.

He had hurt her.

And it hurts him to see Erza hurt.

* * *

She knows he's avoiding her and she hates it. Hates herself for breaking down over a thing that happened in the past. Hates herself for picking on the old wounds that are supposed to be healed. It's her fault. Not his.

And she can't stand that they're growing apart day by passing day.

* * *

**14**

* * *

He wants to see her but he scolds himself. What good will it bring her? Nothing and—

And it's during that day when he realizes how badly he needed to see and talk to Erza.

If only he can bring himself to.

He wants to be forgiven. By her, and by himself.

And the latter, he doesn't know if he can bring himself to.

* * *

She slams her hands on her desk and stands up furiously.

"Erza?" Mirajane suddenly asks, concern painting her pretty face.

She needs someone to talk to now so she drags Mira along with her, not minding what would happen or what Mira would think after she tells her about this. About her past. And she's doing this because she desperately needs advice. An enlightenment that may help her bring Jellal back and their relationship to the way it was before.

Even if it means cutting classes.

* * *

**15**

* * *

It's been two weeks since their last conversation—the recitations in class and group works don't count, because they are rehearsed. Faked.

He doesn't know how long he can keep this up, and then an arm slings around his shoulder as a news as big as an earthquake shook the very being of Jellal Fernandes.

Jellal and Laxus talked man to man after that.

* * *

Mirajane and Laxus are now officially dating. Erza smiles at the thought. They are perfect for each other.

"I guess opposites really do attract." she receives a small smack on her back and she faces a beaming Mira with two champagne glasses on one hand, the other is adorned by a wine bottle.

"Well I'm still wondering why you and Jellal haven't made up." she watches as the white-haired lady pours a vigorous amount of wine on both glasses before handing one to her.

Erza frowns.

"Of course we haven't made up. We're not dating. We're not even a couple." she shoots Mira a glare and all of a sudden, Mira started laughing.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"When I said you guys haven't made up, I meant that as a friendly make-up."

"Oh..." she bends over and drinks from her glass, perfectly covering that flushed face of hers with her hunched form. "Is...is it that o-obvious?"

"Hmmm, I really wasn't aware of it. Wait, what's obvious?" she snorts when Mira's statement dripped with sarcasm.

_She's practically begging to be slapped in the face. This demon bitch._

"I'm being serious here Mira."

"No, really? You two are—h-hey!" the redhead pinches her nose and the white-haired lady almost chokes on her own drink. Erza gives her a questioning look—nervousness obvious on her face.

She sees Mira sigh.

"I'm surprised you haven't jumped at each other."

Erza groaned. "I-It's that obvious?"

She holds her wrist right before her best friend could make another sarcastic reply.

"Erza," she stares at Mira, who turned serious all of a sudden. "He's hurt because he had hurt you."

"But it's my fault! I'm the one who...who broke d-down and..." she circles her arms around her shivering form and Mira embraces her as well, saying comforting words and phrases to help her recover from another panic attack.

* * *

**16**

* * *

He contemplates over his friend's words.

"_Look, you're the one who's avoiding her. Are you sure she's the one who hasn't forgiven you?"_

He buries his face on his palms and laughs weakly.

_I'm the one who hasn't forgiven myself._

* * *

She stomps her way through the hallways, ignoring the protests of the residents.

With Mira and her thoughts combined, plus a little bit of the alcohol's drive, she's sure she can face him head on.

And if he so as much pushes her away, Erza Scarlet will make sure she takes him with her.

* * *

**17**

* * *

He wakes up to the banging of the door.

He checks the clock and runs his fingers over tousled cerulean spikes, sighing in irritation as he jumps out of bed.

_Who the fuck in their right minds would fucking bang the door at two in the morning?_

He doesn't bother to get dressed and hastily opens the door with only his sweatpants on.

"Who the fuck—"

He never did finish his statement when a figure crashed onto him, slamming the door shut and effectively pinning the ultramarine down.

He winces in pain as his back hit the hard floor.

"What the hell—E-Erza?"

He gapes at her as she is straddling his hips, her hand reaching back out to the door behind her, pushing the lock and successfully closing the world behind them shut.

He tries to push her away. Anything to make her go away, because oh God, he can feel her down _there_.

He hisses as her hot hands travel down the planes of his chest and her long, smooth legs grazing the soft fabric of his sweatpants; he can feel her creamy thighs locking onto his own.

"What are you doing Erza?" he inquires, buying him little time to think of a way to dislodge her from him. He watches in shock as his chance slips away, the redhead slowly descending lower, her upper body rubbing the bare flesh of the man who couldn't find the right words to say.

He feels the soft material of her night gown. Silky...velvety. And it took all of his willpower not to crush their bodies together because apparently she isn't wearing anything underneath the luscious silk garment.

_Fuck._

"You're avoiding me." Jellal hears her whisper.

_She reeks of wine. And she's close. She's so fucking close!_

"Erza you're drunk." he grunts when she shifts. This is taking all his strength away and he knows he could lose it any second. So before he drops whatever ounce of restraint he has left, he pushes her away.

* * *

Erza lands with a soft thud and squeaks as the floor made contact with her body.

She has pulled him with her, just like as she said before.

Together and down with her.

The redhead runs her nimble appendages along his biceps and then his forearms, feeling the muscles ripple and contract underneath her touch.

She's cautious. She isn't bold and she told herself she wouldn't bet. Wouldn't stake. Wouldn't play the cards, but for him, she can make an exception.

"Jellal please..."

"I just don't want to hurt you..." she hears him rasp. He's pained and hurt, she thinks and as if to reassure themselves, she pulls him down for a kiss. It is not clumsy even if they are inexperienced nor is it feral. It is passionate and surprisingly though, tender.

She whimpers when the ultramarine responds, feeling his mouth slant over hers expertly in an attempt to even bring them closer.

It's intense and it's nothing Erza has ever felt before. It's so much different from when she was harassed—the one which was dark and brutal and merciless but this...

She feels him retreat as a concerned face looks down at her. Rivulets are now adorning the sides of her face and slowly, ever so slowly she relishes the way he cups her face and loves the way the pads of his thumbs wipe away her tears.

"Erza..." she senses that this is his final warning.

"You won't hurt me. I won't let you." Erza snaps back and with hard and hazy olive eyes enveloping her brown orbs she feels that this...this is beautiful.

* * *

**18**

* * *

He curses because once he starts he won't stop. He doesn't know if he will. He doesn't know if he can.

He synchs his growls with her whimpers and wonders if he could have enough of her. To him, she tastes like apples, and wine and fuck—she's addicting.

Jellal nips her lips, darting a shy tongue out to prod her plump and fleshy lower lip.

He hears another mewl and as she opens her mouth for him, he takes and gives. Jellal doesn't let her go until he has explored all the rows of her teeth and the hot corners of her cavern.

"J-Jellal."

He attacks her mouth again, this time only to make her hungry, as he leaves wet trails down her chin, along her jaw line, biting the flesh and finally travelling down the length of her slender neck.

He's given another one of those moans and he only continues to work harder, callused hands gliding down her curves until they reached the hem of her night gown. He pushes the garment up and settles it right above her collar bone.

_God..._

He doesn't know if it's the sight that kills him, or the way she's panting, breathing his name out over and over again. He's about to close in his mouth over one supple flesh when she crosses her arms across her chest.

* * *

She doesn't know why but all of a sudden, she feels insecure.

Is it?

Or is it fear? The feeling of being stripped, no matter how many ways there are, it all leads to the same end—with her naked. And she feels bare, exposed, vulnerable...exploited.

She tries to push Jellal off so she thrashes around once again violently, missing his groin by an inch, a kick landing a powerful hit on his abdomen. She pulls her dress down, crawling frantically as she shrinks to the corner between the door and the wall. She burst into tears.

She still can't do it.

* * *

**19**

* * *

He doesn't know what to do. He can feel the sensation and pleasure dropping at immense speed. His mind and focus only settling around a certain redhead who is currently having yet another one of her panic attacks.

"Erza," he calmly calls out to her, and slowly gets down on all fours.

He tries to close in the distance between them and since the room is bathed in darkness, he could only make so little of her figure and the desperate whimpers as she holds herself, comforts herself, telling herself that she'll be fine.

He inches closer and when he's close enough, the view in front of him was enough to make him break too.

He latches himself to her immediately to avoid any more unnecessary violence, confining and keeping her emotions at bay. She punches, kicks, pushes, pulls and screams but Jellal completely stays by her side. Whispering to her ear over and over that she's fine, that she's with him and that he won't let anyone hurt her.

He keeps her firmly tucked in his embrace, never letting go even when the pain and the nightmare have subsided.

* * *

She feels in her heart that she'll never recover and she'll have to live.

Live alone in fear.

And she lets this one pass—his vice grip hold on her frame, because when sunrise comes, it's definitely time to say goodbye.

* * *

**20**

* * *

He wonders if this is the right time. It has been a full long week since the night incident took place. Laxus, Simon and Mirajane have heard of this of course, her past along with it and ever since then, Erza has just been distant.

Distant to her friends.

Distant to her best friend.

Distant to him.

He knocks on her door and does not wait for her to open it. He turns the knob and peeks from the small opening that the lacquer wood provided.

"Hey," he greets the redhead who was practically having another date with Algebra.

He stares at her as she stands up and removes her reading glasses.

_God, could she be anymore heartbreakingly beautiful?_

"Hey," he hears her croak, and makes a risk of taking a step forward.

He looks at her as she takes a hesitant step back.

"Erza," he starts but is immediately cut off.

"I can't talk right now Jellal. I'm...busy."

He takes another huge step forward; she takes two steps back, her right foot bumping the stand of the full body mirror.

He seizes this opportunity and immobilizes her from behind. He holds her softly, trying his best not to leave any marks as she might break. Again.

"Let me go Jellal!"

"No! Not until you stop breaking." the ultramarine embraces her from behind and feels as if she's a shaking leaf in the middle of the storm.

"I...I can't! Don't you get it?" he fears the pain in her voice. It's always a living nightmare to see her break like this—like shattered glass, without the broken pieces. "I'm not good enough for you...I'm not whole...I—"

"Is this what this is about?" he rasps, bringing his lips to her ear as he whispers. "I don't care if you're not whole. I don't care if you're broken or damaged! Because damn it I want you."

He feels her shake again and from the tears threatening to fall from her eyes this time. He motions her to look at the mirror and asks her to view her reflection.

"Look at yourself," he hisses, his lips planting butterfly kisses along the length of her neck. He hears her sobbing now, but he doesn't let go. How could he? "Look at yourself damn it, and look how fucking beautiful you are."

He licks the shell of her ear and she shudders at the wet contact.

"Now, tell me how the fuck am I going to let you go?" he spins her around to face him and kisses her fully on the lips. Jellal gives a quick peck before retracting back by a little. "Don't you see?" he scoffs pulling her into another lip lock and this time, she returns it. He pulls back. "You've already fucked me up."

He hears her sniff and watches as she runs her hand under her nose.

"That much I know already Jellal...And I-I really really want this. Us."

"Then what's stopping you?" he cups her cheeks and holds her close.

"You."

"Me?" he asks, hurt evident in his hunter green eyes.

"Because you make me remember things I don't want to remember Jellal..."

He keeps his mouth shut.

"And unless I forget that, I can't start loving you."

* * *

She doesn't know if she's said the wrong words or explained it in a way that he misunderstood because he stopped moving.

She looks into his eyes and sees nothing—nothing except her own pathetic reflection glazed into his tear-coated orbs.

"So what you're saying is..." she watches as he dips his head down, lowering his gaze and meeting the hard tiled floor. "You're going to forget me so you can forget about your fucked-up past?"

She swallows the lump on her throat. She sees a side of him that she hasn't seen before.

He's angry.

And she's the cause.

"No," Erza breathes, carefully picking her words this time around. "I'm not going to forget about you. I'm going to forget about the feelings."

She hears him scoff and watches through sienna eyes the pain in his phthalo orbs as he turns his back on her.

"Then this is goodbye, Erza."

* * *

**21**

* * *

He's lost count of the years that passed.

_Ah it's been seven years hasn't it?_

To think he'd see them all again.

Laxus his best friend who's now married to Mirajane.

And then there's Erza who looks like she's still breaking.

He laughs at the thought and brings himself to stomach the disgust of looking at her and turns his attention over the dead body of his friend Simon.

* * *

Seven years, two months and fourteen days.

To Erza everything just seems to stack up in her head to remind her over and over about how she screwed up with her life.

And to think, she'd see them all again.

Mirajane her bestfriend who's now married to Laxus.

And then there's Jellal who just walks away from the coffin of Simon without even saying a word to her.

* * *

**22**

* * *

"What?" he spits in disbelief.

"I said," Mirajane holds the hand of her husband as she starts talking again. It's very hard on her part, Jellal thinks but he refuses to soften up. Refuses to go back to the Jellal who believed in the fucking wheels of destiny and screwed-up shit of fate. Jellal forged his own path, and armed with nothing but an array of choices, he finally managed to be one of the most successful and famous baker in the land.

"Simon wishes that you manage his bakeshop."

"I am a very busy man. I've—"

"Jellal, this is the final wish of our friend." Jellal shoots Laxus a glare before finally averting his gaze.

"...fine."

"That, and you have to do it together with Erza."

* * *

She knows that she simply must refuse. This will not be good for her, working together with Jellal was a thing of the past, and this...

This is not going to do her any good.

She feels a wave of nostalgia hit her.

It makes her nauseous but she accepts it nevertheless.

Because after all, it is her fault in the first place.

* * *

**23**

* * *

He throws the pie in the air and it lands somewhere along the stained floors of the bakeshop.

The ultramarine repeatedly tosses pastry after pastry and then he watches in amusement as they end up as a splattered mess on the ground.

"Everything's trash. Are you sure you even deserve that title as—"

"Okay!" he hears her yell. "Enough! I get it. I'm not in the same league as you."

"You'll never even be half as great as a baker that I'll ever be." he barks and stops her when she tries to leave. Jellal blocks her way out. It's not working out.

_This fucking arrangement that our fucking friend planned is not FUCKING. WORKING. OUT._

It's already half past eleven and the store closed a few hours ago. They should've just been making an apple pie and then suddenly it erupts to insulting and fighting.

"And you're just going to fucking leave?" he spits out in disgust.

"Well what the hell do you think I'm supposed to do Jellal? Watch as you throw away everything I make?! You think I'll stay after that?"

And as soon as the words left her mouth, his face turns dark.

"I wasn't the first one who left...who let go...what the fuck's your problem?" he growls, sizing up on her until he finally manages to trap her between the wall and his body.

"You want to know my problem?" he hears her yell.

He already knows the answer to this one. She made it clear seven years ago.

"Tell it to my face then." Jellal seethes.

"Me! I am the problem Jellal!"

* * *

She's panting, and fighting like her life hangs on something as insignificant such as this. It's been seven years! God! Couldn't she let it go? Why couldn't she let it go?

"I'm the fucking problem! Me! I'm wrong! I shouldn't have left you, I shouldn't have built those fucking walls...shouldn't have pushed you away...I...I should have trusted you." Erza sobs, her voice barely recognizable as her own.

"And look what you've turned me into." she hears Jellal hiss and back away from her, presenting himself like a fucked-up experiment gone wrong in chemistry lab—like a half-assed, half-baked cake burnt and left in the oven to spoil.

"I know, I know." the redhead whispers, her voice as silent as the dead of the night. "I wish..." it's becoming hard to let the words flow when the tears interfere but she continues anyway. "I wish I could undo it all. I wish I could be with you again..." she sobs right after this and then lamely finishes.

"Please be with me again..."

"I don't love you anymore." It doesn't sting, in fact it doesn't hurt. It's like her pain receptors are shut off, but she knows that once this conversation is over, she'll feel it. And she'll feel the pain hit her tenfold.

"I know. I know." she sniffs, trailing off before finishing. "But I wish you still do..."

"I loved you with all my heart..." she sees him shake his head then laugh without humor. "But you just fucking threw it away. You fucking threw it all away."

"Jellal, I just closed my heart because I wasn't ready to accept you. Because I wasn't whole. Because you're giving me so much that I'm afraid I can't take it all or give it back. I was so afraid that _it_ might happen again and because I didn't trust you that time that I just...closed my heart."

She watches him as he shakes his head and disappears through the back door.

She would never forget what he said to her.

"_No, it was never opened for me to begin with."_

* * *

**24**

* * *

It's going to go back to business as usual.

Tomorrow he's going to forget because if he so much handled seven fucking years, he could handle one fucking night right?

* * *

She doesn't know if she's doing the right thing—coming to his apartment with half moons under her eyes, unkempt tresses, dirty uniform and flour-covered face.

But she just needs to. She needs to, because this is the last time that she's going to try to bring back the Jellal she once lost.

* * *

**25**

* * *

He opens the door unceremoniously and is not shocked at what's present before him.

"I've baked an apple pie for one last time." Jellal sees her state and he can't help but feel the small, but apparent pang in his chest surface up again. He doesn't speak; instead he accepts the pie and drags one long index finger to scoop and taste the food.

He barely manages to register the taste when she speaks; her eyes being coated once again by a thin layer of translucent liquid.

"I'm so sorry Jellal. I really am. I never really did care about you. All I cared about was myself and for that I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

He's heard enough.

The apple pie drops to the floor and as soon as it hit the floor, he's already locked his frame around hers.

* * *

She cries and cries and continues to cry some more. She feels his hard planes mold perfectly against her soft curves and couldn't help but feel that this...something as this that happened seven years ago when she was a coward was really really...beautiful.

"I'm sorry Jellal. Jellal. Oh God Jellal forgive me. I want you back. I want the Jellal seven years ago back." Erza continues to sound like a broken record, repeating the lamentation over and over again as if to tell herself that it will never be enough. A million apologies will never be enough.

But she feels him hold her closer and presses her near.

"Ssh..." she hears him whisper in her ear. She then feels him plant a kiss on the crown of her head, then her forehead, to the hollows of her eyes, to the tip of her nose, and then as if hesitating a bit, he draws back before fully pressing his lips on hers.

* * *

**26**

* * *

They're both feral, wild and aggressive as they hold on to the kiss, slamming each other with their own pair of bruised lips, tongues seeking comfort in a dance that's as old as time because they have to make up for the seven years of emptiness—seven, long, gruesome fucking years of separation. They just have to.

He carries her inside, her legs wrapping around his slim waist as her arms wound around his neck like snakes. The ultramarine's hands are all over her, one caressing the supple mounds of her chest through her clothed uniform, the other trapped in the tendrils of velvety scarlet waterfall.

He bangs her to the wall, earning a small whimper of either pain or pleasure as he ravages her mouth, showing no signs of letting up or letting go. It is her who pushes him gently, effectively breaking connection as they both gasp for air. The moment precious oxygen is back into their system, they start going on at each other once again like animals.

She thanks him for wearing something that's easy to rip off, and her palms burned at the scorching planes of his chest. His hot lips travel down her jaw and to where he bites her earlobe, breathing harshly and whispering dirty promises. She moans when his mouth trails open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck, going all the way down to the apparent swell of her chest.

He stops momentarily as he's back on the same spot and scene before him—the bittersweet memory of seven years ago.

Erza lets out a shaky breath before nodding, sending the butterflies in the ultramarine's stomach to stir wildly.

"I'm not going to stop you this time..." And taking that as the signal, he viciously rips off her uniform, the white tunic coming off of her like it was nothing—the buttons flying off in all directions.

Jellal gives her a knowing look, indulging the luscious sight of her chest held up and concealed by the lacy black bra, the soft and gorgeous curves of her body displayed before him and finally the part of her which still makes her tick.

There are no more words exchanged after her go signal; he just takes, takes, takes and she gives, gives, gives. Jellal rips off the offensive clothing one by one and is delighted at the sight of her.

"Heartbreakingly beautiful..." he silently whispers and the redhead arches her back as they dance together to a rhythm that only the two of them knew about.

* * *

**27**

* * *

"I just don't know what to do..."

He hears Mira sigh and Laxus just rolls his eyes out of frustration.

"You weren't the only one who suffered Jellal. Erza suffered too, and we were witnesses to that. You know she's damaged Jellal, and she knows that as well. She just had to find the Erza who was lost because she was raped. She had to otherwise she wouldn't be able to love you. To fully trust you."

"I know that Mira...it's just that, it really fucking hurts."

The ultramarine hears his blond friend grumble.

"Why do you keep making simple things so fucking complicated? Do you still love her? That's just the fucking question!"

"That never really changed one bit."

* * *

She arrives and the married couple leaves, giving them all the privacy and space provided by Simon's bakeshop.

"Hey," she greets softly.

"Hey," and she feels his hand hold hers.

"So what are we going to do now?" she asks, staring at his beautiful pools of sea green eyes.

"Now it's my turn. I'm the one who needs to find myself." the ultramarine whispers and she watches when he plants soft kisses on her fingertips. "To find and bring back the Jellal seven years ago, so I can be whole again. So I can love you fully this time."

"You know," she hears him laugh and it is music to her ears. "I love you but I can't say that I never stopped, because at one point I did, so just give me time and space because no matter how much I love you, I can't help but remember the pain; and I want to forget that pain, so I can have the Erza Scarlet again who loved me."

"The Erza Scarlet who still loves you." the redhead presses their lips together.

"Are you willing to wait for me?" she smiles because he knows. She knows.

And they know that they've already got their answer.

And he's the one that lets her go this time; but he promises to go back after—to fix both their damages—because love once lost is found again and to them, they are both satisfied with the short "what is" they have now instead of the long seven years which should have been the "what if's".

* * *

**A/N: A relationship is not all flowers and sunshine and unicorns and rainbows and dreams. It's real and alive. This is probably my most favorite out of all my works because it's [**the longest! And probably the only fic of mine that involved all their changes/feelings in the manga from when they were kids, to how they are now. :) Forgive any mistakes because I really just wrote my heart out on this one until it's finished and I think editing some parts just for the grammar and stuff kills the mood and tempts me to change some parts which are better off as they are.** :D] the closest fanfic to reality—In A Heartbeat only comes second in line—and it's how love works. I must admit that it isn't very descriptive. I made it direct and keep on shifting to Jellal and Erza's perspectives because there are always two sides of the stories right? Sometimes we tend to think **"I'm right, he's/she's wrong. I'm hurt, I'm broken, I'm damaged, I'll make him/her pay" and how many fucking times did we use the word "I"**? We sometimes fail to consider the other part because we are so engrossed with ourselves and that's because we love ourselves more. I'm not saying that it's wrong, I'm saying that it's wrong if it becomes too much. Losing the love for oneself is wrong too.**

**It's neither love-at-first-sight nor destiny; it's time and choices and effort and work and friendship. There may come a point in time when love is lost, and that's good, because that just means we have to love ourselves a little more or let go to make ourselves whole and then we'll just have to love a person again—maybe not the same person, but someone else who will fully love us this time. Someone who'll accept us for who we've been before and who we are and who we are going to be.**

**I've been through it, and it was hard and it didn't work out and I don't regret it. Will not regret it, because this is a kind of thing that makes us who we are. So keep moving on and moving forward, because I still am ;) **

**loveyou!**


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